The Circle of Life
by Aletta-Feather
Summary: Isaak's search for Viktor combined with his fascination for Dexter. Short one-shot. The story alternates between events in season 7 and Isaak's opinion and impression of Dexter.


AN: The story is not chronological and some small details might not be entirely correct, time wise or otherwise. However, it is mostly canon. It alternates between events in season 7 and Isaak's opinion and impression of Dexter.

* * *

The Circle of Life

Dexter Morgan. The man who owned the boat that had taken Viktor to his last resting place. Dexter Morgan. Who is he? And why did he kill him? What had he wanted with Viktor? Was he an unsatisfied costumer, a rival of some sort, a hired gun? Questions racing through his mind, invisible to the world. The man on the boat answered. "A douchebag. A jerk who works for Miami Metro Homicide."

When Viktor hadn't come home, the eerie sensation had begun. Something was not right. The idea of Viktor simply staying on a bit longer to put some affairs in order had soon been dismissed. A few phone calls and his voicemail had seen to that. He had waited a few days, and some sleepless nights, before making the crossing to the New World. On the plane, his mind had been going over all the possibilities once more. The Columbians killing Viktor, making an example of him. Someone close to Viktor finding out his, their, secret? A stupid bar fight, a drug courier with a grudge. His temper getting the better of him. It was all plausible enough or really not plausible at all. Viktor had been on his way to the airport. Maybe a car accident?

Dexter Morgan. A blood spatter analyst in cahoots with the police, with a cop sister, and a dead wife. Murdered wife. It shouldn't be too difficult to eliminate him. Lab rats do not generally rely on their physical capacities. It could be a mercy killing, made to look like a suicide, reunited with the missus. Unfortunately for this Dexter, such a death would not really satisfy his own need for vengeance.

So Viktor had killed a policeman and some stripper. It sounded like the beginning of a joke. Though a little worrying —a cop murder is quite frowned upon after all, and makes the police less open to incentives— it is also hopeful. He is simply in hiding somewhere, and will wait until all the commotion has died down. Which could take a while, what with the cops crawling over the club every single night.

Dexter Morgan. Cunning. A self-proclaimer loner. Handsome. Protective of his sister. Quite willing to play.

Nadia had brought news about the bracelet. Viktor carried it with him. The signal had died, but it could still be traced. The wait was excruciating. Finally, the results were in. The bracelet, Viktor, had been in his apartment, the airport. All to be expected. But the unexpected soon followed. A marina, miles out into sea. Jurg tried to console, giving some false hope. It was over. He was dumped, tossed overboard. Disposed like an unwanted puppy. Anger mingled with grief and hatred.

Dexter Morgan. A trickster. Unadapted to the world, yet blending in perfectly. Arranged treacherous traps, which would have killed any lesser man. Perhaps with his own secret to hide? If payback was not his motive, and it clearly wasn't , than what? The short hesitation had given him away. He couldn't care less about Mike Anderson. Dexter was as cold as he himself. A worthy opponent. Definitely not a fat little man.

The barman's suicide, devised to get the police to calm down, seemed to work. They did not haunt the Fox Hole anymore. With the police of their back, the time for vengeance had arrived. Dexter Morgan would not live to see another day. He patiently waited in Dexter's apartment when the phone went to voicemail. A new opportunity had presented itself.

Dexter Morgan. A ruthless killer. Unemotional yet brutal. Resourceful in his use of weapons.

The missing evidence had been the key to open the prison's doors. Suddenly, he had acquired more bodyguards. Though unable to physically attack Dexter, for now, verbal harassment should still be sufficient to get under his skin. Determined to provoke and instill fear, he arrives at the terrace.

Dexter Morgan. Hunted and hunter. Interchangeable roles for the both of them it seems. They really are a match for each other.

This Dexter was not the only one good at tricks. A doppelganger was now being chased by the police, whereas he could go wherever he pleased. It didn't take long to track Dexter down. He was getting donuts. What an appropriate snack for someone about to be perforated.

Dexter Morgan. Knife carrying guardian angel. Taking out the competition. Apparently he wants to have him all for himself. Not much of a team player than.

A house visit from a group of detectives. The room is crawling with them, but the most important one has not shown up yet. The man lying on the floor must have met him before though. Who else could have been responsible for this kind of blood splatter?

Dexter Morgan. The friend that could have been.

Soft music playing in the background. Someone approaches. A bit startled, he notices it is him. This is not the time, nor place to settle the matter. A surprisingly frank conversation develops between them. They talk about love and lovers, loneliness and heartache. About their place, or lack thereof, in this world. It almost saddens him to have to finish this man off. Yet his love and anger compel him to do so. He cannot walk away from this. "Till next time." Both promise and threat.

Dexter Morgan. A reluctant hired assassin with an aversion to guns.

Irritated and undermined by his presence, George had managed to set the Brotherhood against him. Jurg was now his only trusted confidant, though way too recognizable to be of any use in tracking down the hired guns. That left precisely one other option. Time for some tea.

Dexter Morgan. An inventive, yet emotionally stunted boyfriend.

Though blackmailed and pressured into this role, Dexter turned out to be an outstanding assassin. After his first kill, he demanded to talk to Hannah. Whilst eavesdropping, he found out that Dexter wasn't the most sensitive or heartwarming partner on the planet. He appeared completely unable to comfort Hannah. It made him feel outraged so he confronted him. A confrontation that turned out far more unpleasant for himself. He did feel a sense of guilt over Viktor's death. Damn you , Dexter, for releasing that monster.

Dexter Morgan. On intimate terms with death. Life, not so much.

It is a bumpy voyage. He is on his way to a wake, Viktor's, as well as, his own. How utterly strange and bizarre to be here with Viktor's killer, yet somehow quite fitting. The showdown on the ship had ended unexpectedly. They had assumed themselves safe, even thrown their weapons overboard as a sign of a truce between them. Never in his wildest dreams had he considered George as a real threat. They share a few thoughts about life, death, and their effects. He mourns his loved one, whom he will join very soon, and he gives some last pieces of advice to this adversary turned ally. Advice on how to live and love as his own life is about to end.

Dexter Morgan. The Ferryman.


End file.
